/in-Vitational Game 5, Simon Mafia 2: Game Over before 832

[Lord Gurgi]

I wasn't expecting the, "Oh, alright" thing, I was expecting maybe "Oh the humanity!" or perhaps "The scum did it!" or something with an exclamation mark.

[TDC]

Would the latter be what you'd expect from town-Fluff? or from scum-Fluff? Or from either-Fluff?
I can't follow what you're trying to say.

[Lord Gurgi]

I don't think he'd act particularly differently as town or scum. I''m just saying that he's acting even more apathetic than anyone else about his lynch.

[TDC]

I'm wondering, are you aware that if you voted Fluff, it wouldn't be the hammer because Elmo recently changed his vote to you?

[Lord Gurgi]

Oh. Right. That takes some air out of things.

[Elmo]

This is hilarious if Goat basically gave up and wandered off and now we're all sitting here going "But who do we lynch???"

[TDC]

Anyway, deadline is 5 am for me, certainly not going to be around then.

[petroleumjelly]

Official Day Three Vote Count #9

3 – LlamaFluff (TDC, forbiddanlight, Debonair Danny DiPietro)
2 – TDC (SpyreX, Battousai)
1 – Debonair Danny DiPietro (LlamaFluff)
1 – Lord Gurgi (Elmo)

With

9

alive, it takes

5

to lynch and

3

to lynch at deadline. Deadline is October 10, 9:59 pm CDT.

Not Voting – 2 – Goatrevolt, Lord Gurgi

---

LOCK COUNT

6 – Green (Goatrevolt, Lord Gurgi, forbiddanlight, SpyreX, Debonair Danny DiPietro, LlamaFluff, Elmo)
0 – Blue
0 – Red
0 – Yellow

Not Locking – 2 – Battousai, TDC

With

9

alive, it takes

5

to lock a floor.

At nightfall, the floor to be locked is: GREEN.

Note

: I will not be here to lock the thread at deadline, but the deadline will still hit at the appropriate time. Please do not post once the deadline hits, which is about one hour and forty five minutes from this post.

[Goatrevolt]

Vote Lord Gurgi

[Goatrevolt]

Too bad it didn't matter...that was at the precise last possible minute...

Here's a hope Llama was bluffing.

[Lord Gurgi]

That is awfully convenient. Incredibly so.

[Goatrevolt]

That is awfully convenient. Incredibly so.

Yes. The convenience is truly unnatural. I dodged the thread carefully for many hours as I patiently tapped the F5 key to the rhythm of my music. Watching. Refreshing. Calculating. Refreshing. Waiting. For the right time...


...To Pounce! To place that 2nd vote on Lord Gurgi. The clock grazed 9:59 PM CDT and I knew the time was right. I carefully slid my mouse over with the deftness only a true master can possess, and depressed the mouse button over the submit key, and my request was made. Mafiascum responded, near instantly, with confirmation that I had succeeded in my task.


I had done it. The unthinkable. I had sat on my ass for hour after hour at my computer doing absolutely nothing as I waited for that ripe moment to spring my vote on Gurgi. And that moment came. And like that wound tiger I was, I tore into it with deadly accuracy.


Or, it would have been deadly had it not been actually 1 vote shy of achieving lynch. Shit.

---------

But seriously, what is convenient about my vote? Do explain. Are you actually trying to suggest that I camped my computer and timed it so I could put a vote on at exactly deadline or some BS like that? What could I even be attempting to gain with a play like that? Ahahahaha.

[petroleumjelly]

Official Day Three Vote Count #10, End of Day Three

3 – LlamaFluff (TDC, forbiddanlight, Debonair Danny DiPietro)
2 – Lord Gurgi (Elmo, Goatrevolt)
2 – TDC (SpyreX, Battousai)
1 – Debonair Danny DiPietro (LlamaFluff)

With

9

alive, it takes

5

to lynch and

3

to lynch at deadline. Deadline is October 10, 9:59 pm CDT.

Not Voting – 1 – Lord Gurgi

---

LOCK COUNT

7 – Green (Goatrevolt, Lord Gurgi, forbiddanlight, SpyreX, Debonair Danny DiPietro, LlamaFluff, Elmo)
0 – Blue
0 – Red
0 – Yellow

Not Locking – 2 – Battousai, TDC

With

9

alive, it takes

5

to lock a floor.

At nightfall, the floor to be locked is: GREEN.

~

Mr. Wilson walks from the elevator very slowly. His face is chiseled in displeasure. He quickly whips out a gun and shoots astoundingly above three different guest’s heads in order to get them to sit down more quickly.

“You think this is a game?”

Bam!

“You think this isn’t real?”

Bam!

“You think we are just killing stuffed dummies and not real people?”

Bam!

“Let me set you straight.

I

call this a game because I find it terribly fun. You, on the other hand, are essentially battling for your life. This is not some game of Old Maid; this is war. This is life. You need to be able to be aware of your surroundings, and to quickly adapt to them. At the moment, each and every one of you is doing a rather pathetic job of adapting to your surroundings.

“Your surroundings currently include the other guests in this game, and, oh, let’s see…

ME

. Not to mention the multiple guns aimed at each of that none of you can see, but of which you are all well aware. Perhaps you have forgotten, but I in no way promised that

any

of you will be leaving this building alive. To do that, I expect you to take your own life into your own hands and to do something with it. Sitting back and not coming to a concensus for

two days in a row

only tells me that you are not all that concerned with seeing another day.”

Mr. Wilson glares around the room, locking eyes with each remaining guest. Keeping his gun in plain view, he sits in a chair.

“So let’s see. It appears as though you have chosen Señor Picklewick as the guest of honor today. Very well. You have three minutes to kill him. If I feel like any of you are holding back, I will kill you. And I am deadly serious. Go.”

Although a couple hesitate, the town is quick to pin LlamaFluff to the ground. He is barraged with kicks and punches. He gives a mighty struggle, bucking his legs and swinging his fists, and even trying to bite hands that come close to his head. One guest has a flash of inspiration and grabs a pillow from one of the couches, and forcefully covers LlamaFluff’s face with it. Muffled screams of rage fill the room, but the audible intake of breath becomes less and less audible. The yelling is soon replaced by a bone-chilling crying. The body goes motionless after twenty more seconds. The entire room watches his stomach to see if there is another attempt for an intake of breath, but there are no signs of life.

The man in tweed waits an additional minute or so (while the town is awkwardly pinning LlamaFluff and still holding a pillow over his face) to make sure the deed is done. Suffocating people, after all, is a tricky business, and prone to mistakes.

When he is satisfied, Mr. Wilson stands up and does not even bother to check for a pulse.

“At least you have all become more efficient. The body will be disposed of tonight. Get to your rooms. Once again, you have unsurprisingly managed to kill an innocent nobody.”

LlamaFluff, Townie, has been lynched!

He was currently residing on the

Blue

floor.

It is now

Night Three

. Night choices are due October 14 at 9:59 pm CDT.

[petroleumjelly]

The guests walk into the room one by one, coming down from the elevator. Mr. Wilson sits cheerily in a chair, as if the previous day had never happened. The room, as usual, gives no clues about what might have occurred there in the past.

“Come, come! Don’t be shy. There are chairs for all of you. Can you believe you have lived this long? Isn’t that fantastic? Really, you oughtn’t be so afraid to let us all see your choppers with a smile. Food and drinks are to your left. If you need any help, feel free to approach any of my staff so that you can be promptly shot.”

The guests sit in a semi-circle of couches and chairs, and as usual, one guest is absent. Mr. Wilson seems to ignore this fact.

“So let’s have some group therapy. Does anybody have anything on their mind?”

One guest says exactly what is on his mind. Instead of shooting him (as just about every guest in the room anticipates), Mr. Wilson laughs heartily.

“Yes, I expect most in this room share your feelings. But complaints are a two-way street. So now it’s my turn:

“I think you are worthless excuse for a human being and that that is why I invited you to my Hotel. As I recall, Mr. Jobbins, your wife does not really love you, as evidenced by the fact that your first child is actually not your child. You seem surprised, but trust me – I’ve checked the DNA. You work in a cubicle where you generally keep two screens open – one for “work” and the other for play. So even when you are doing your “job” you are usually not even doing that.

“You contribute to society largely by being another squawking person with a mouth to feed requiring another roof to cover. You are not particularly intelligent, you are not particularly helpful, and you are not particularly grateful to be alive.

“Why should

you

get to live, and to have a better life over those born in different parts of the world? There are people who have done

far

greater things than you in much poorer countries than the United States, but as the world currently is, they get nothing in return for their investment while you get returns for investing nothing whatsoever.

“My mission in life is to try to make sure people reap what they sow. Every person in this room other than me has essentially put nothing towards making the world a better place. And yet you try to reap from the world by making

your

lives better. Well: so long as you in my Hotel, I shall be doing the reaping.

“The same reasoning goes to each of you in general, although each of you have slightly different facts that establish your worthlessness.”

The man in tweed takes a sip from his strawberry guava juice. “So.

That

was fun. I hope you all feel better for that group therapy session. Statistics tell me they are supposed to be great for morale.

“Now, I suppose you’re all wondering if I’m hiding Elmo behind a wall today.”

He takes out a little black remote with a button on it, and presses it. There is an explosion somewhere above your heads.

“Nope. And now he is definitely dead. By the way, he had no abilities that could help you here. I will return soon.”

Elmo, Townie, has been killed!

He was currently residing on the

Blue

Floor.

~

It is now

Day Four

. With

7

alive, it takes

4

to lynch and

4

to lock a floor. At eadline, it will take

3

to lynch. Deadline is October 29, 9:59 pm CDT.

Back-Up Floor

: Green

[forbiddanlight]

Hey, I'm on Blue now.

So what do we do now?

[Battousai]

Vote: TDC

I still say TDC and Elmo are scum.

FL: What do you think we should do?

[Battousai]

Also, are we the last /in-Vitational game still going on? I'mma go check.

[Battousai]

Nope. Game 3 is on day 5, and game 4 is on day 7. Let's save the best for last

[Debonair Danny DiPietro]

I still say TDC and Elmo are scum.

/headdesk * 26

Also we're in LYLO, unvote.

[forbiddanlight]

FL: What do you think we should do?

Lynch scum. Honestly, I'm kinna at a loss for how to really handle this. Who else was on my list?

[SpyreX]

So there IS another bellhop or FL has pulled an amazing gambit, hmm?

I'm trying to decide if Batt is amazingly clever scum or if that is an epic towntell right there.

Not surprisingly I STILL want TDC lynched.

[forbiddanlight]

So there IS another bellhop or FL has pulled an amazing gambit, hmm?

Well, I am led to believe there is another bellhop.

[SpyreX]

I am too, but I'm thrown off in general now:

LG, FL, TDC, DDD, Batt, Goat, SpyreX

Of those 7, assuming lylo, its three scum. And I really didn't suspect three of them to actually BE scum.

Going off of my awesome reads thus far process of elimination would say that TDC, DDD and one of (LG / Batt) are the scum. Batt's smoof move above makes me think that if TDC is scum its DDD, LG, TDC.

---

Unrelated to that, I'm really not sure what to do with you now FL. Locking your floor (after looking at where the deaths occurred) means that only you are locked and safe versus whomever you've stuck on green.

Actually, I think you need to say who is on green via you to try to parse who couldn't make the kills.

---

Unrelated to THAT, I think its time for massclaim too. I've got this sinking suspicion that this is a mostly-mountainous. (Yes, that is me saying I'm VT).

[forbiddanlight]

Actually, I think you need to say who is on green via you to try to parse who couldn't make the kills.

At this point you are right. A blocked kill won't really get us anywhere.

Spyrex is the only person I successfully moved.

I targetted myself N1 and I targetted Elmo N3. Small consolation that I was right to move him :S

Unrelated to that, I'm really not sure what to do with you now FL. Locking your floor (after looking at where the deaths occurred) means that only you are locked and safe versus whomever you've stuck on green.

It's not important to keep me alive anymore. Even if I get someone protected it won't stop lylo. At this point I need to move scum to whatever floor we lock.

And honestly, I could get down with a TDC lynch...I'm tired.

[TDC]

1. Was anyone else besides SpyreX and fl ever moved (in other words, is there evidence that the supposed second bellhop exists besides fl's claim)?

2. Has anyone, besides me and fl, started out on green?

And yes, I think massclaim is in order now.